


A much needed break

by Gabriel4Sam



Series: To keep him [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Consort!Obi-Wan, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 04:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/pseuds/Gabriel4Sam
Summary: Duchesse Kryze had a headache from dealing with bickering Mandalorians all day, but her husband knew just how to help her.





	A much needed break

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wrennette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/gifts).



> This is probably the last in the serie, just know that they will live happily after!

The Mandalore’s Duchesse had the mother of all headaches and she knew exactly who to blame for it. Sometimes, Satine would swore up and down she was ruling over the most exasperating people in the known universe and probably the most exasperating in all unknown parts too!

They bickered steadily over every petty and trivial matters they could found, with such enthusiasm that every once in a while, she regretted ever coming back. She should have pretended to die from Maul’s treatments and run away to become a farmer, or anything that didn’t involve Mandalorians. Perhaps that’s why their ancestors had been such warmongering people: all this aggressive reflexes needed to be used for something and since they couldn’t use them now to rain blood and fire everywhere they went…

No, of course, she didn’t _really_ regretted coming back. Mandalore was her planet, hers, and her presence was the only thing that had stopped the civil war: Mandalorian people didn’t always like her, but she was theirs Duchesse and they had felt pretty insulted two Sith foreigners had almost succeed in killing her and even more insulted that another foreigner, and a Jedi to add insult to injury, had been needed to save her.

She was theirs, to save or to kill, and they had, more or less, fallen in line behind her after that, when she had come back after the death of Sidious.

They were also apparently taking Obi-Wan’s decision to marry her as a proof of the superiority of Mandalore on the Jedi. The Negotiator himself, on Mandalore, wearing their Duchess’s colours! They still didn’t like Jedi, but they would kill for Obi-Wan, clearly the most smart of the bunch since he had abandoned the Order for marrying on Mandalore.  

Yes, as bickering and exasperating as they could be, things were good on Mandalore and she had never been happier, but it was difficult to remember at the end of very long days when she had a headache and needed to put on her smile and listen them for a few other hours. She plastered said smile on her face and touched the little bell dissimulated on the arm of the throne, to signal she was ready for the next petitioner but it was Obi-Wan who entered the throne’s room.

“Darling?”

“I asked them for a pause and said to not send the next person, until we ringed again. The guards are organizing a snack for the last petitioners.”

He had come with a small tray that he left next her throne, when she raised to hug him. Behind her, she heard the sound of her advisors and bodyguards leaving the room quickly. They were probably happy for a small break too.

He had brought her the bitter juice from berries she preferred, marinated vegetables and bread, only simple things that she loved, comfort food essentially, and they eat the impromptu meal on the steps on the throne, Obi-Wan telling her from his last research in the Archives, and her headache regressed but didn’t really go away.

“I could feel your pain from the other side of the palace”. He confessed, before opening his belt: “I’ve brought painkillers, too, now that your stomach isn’t empty anymore. Or I can use the Force. Or….”

“Or?”

He turned to her, smiled, wicked and happy and so free. The blue of House Kryze was making his eyes more vivid, almost sparkling.

He was the most beautiful view in the world and he was hers.

That’s how she found herself back on her throne, still clothed, one leg thrown over one of the arms of the throne, and her husband kneeling before her. Her other leg was over his shoulder, her heel digging, probably too hard, in his back. She was wearing stockings, so that was one less piece of clothing in his path, but he didn’t seem in a hurry. He has hooked his thumbs into her underwear but hadn’t wriggled her out of them, kissing the small, simple clothe, again and again, until she was ready to whine. He had always been the more patient of the two of them in bed. She’s growing wetter and the view didn’t help: Obi-Wan is surrounded by her skirt, almost drowning in them.

“By the stars,” she whispered, “I never realized there were so much of them, I could probably pull them down and keep you hidden here, sweetheart.”

He laughed, a sound muffled against her. “Want me to eat you out during meetings?” He didn’t let her time to answer, finally took her underwear out, and went to work.

“Just like that. Darling, dear, yes.” She crooned, feeling his tongue parting her folds. He had a mouth like no other sentient she had taken to her bed. He loved to explore, to spend hours just like that, pushing her into orgasms until she was so lax she melted in their bed, or sometimes keeping her on the edge for what seemed hours, his tongue swirling over her clit, retracing her folds, sometimes pushing at the same rhythm two fingers into her. One memorable night, he had come without being touched, just from pushing her into her third orgasm of the night.

Not right now. Right now, he was apparently decided to push her into the quicker, most intense orgasm of her life and she was already whimpering, her fingers tight in his hair to keep him where she wanted him. There were only the sound of her panting and the wet sounds between her tights and the whole world had become unimportant, only the feel of his hand on her hips anchoring her, was real, the silk of his hair, and that tongue, that wicked tongue making itself more firm. He was moaning, the sound hungry and needy and she felt a strange mix of smugness, possessiveness and passion, and bit her lips to stifle another groan when the tip of his tongue went back to her clit. His mouth should be illegal, she thought, and imagined how he would leave the room, his lips redder from his work, and how nobody could ignore what had happened, how they all knew he was _hers_. She licked her lips at the idea and then groaned again when he pressed two fingers into her, kriffin her with it to push her higher. He licked, caressed, moaning against her flesh from the pleasure of giving her pleasure and she just put her head back against the throne, and let herself be adored. When she came, it was with his name on her lips.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr too under the same username, come and say hi I don't bite!


End file.
